Costumed Crusader
by Dance Elle Dance
Summary: "Ya know, I was you for Halloween one year, Cap." That, and the fact she presented him with a Captain America action figure to sign, are what make Steve Rogers completely awestruck by Darcy Lewis. SteveDarcy, oneshot


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Thor or The Avengers._

_**Summary: "Ya know, I was you for Halloween one year, Cap." That, and the fact she presented him with a Captain America action figure to sign, are what make Steve Rogers completely awestruck by Darcy Lewis. SteveDarcy, oneshot**_

_Um, yeah. I think these two have the potential to be adorable, and I've seen some great S/D fics around here, so, I decided to write this! I just think it was a fun little idea and I hope that everyone enjoys! Thanks for reading!_

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**Costumed Crusader**

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"Sup, Cap."

Steve paused before turning around. A smile had already formed on his face when that voice rang out. He always looked forward to talking to Darcy Lewis, more so than he would ever admit to anyone else. There was just something about her - often nonsensical - babbling that made him feel more at home in this new world.

"Hello, Miss Lewis," he greeted.

"_Darcy_," she corrected forcefully.

"Darcy," he said, obliging her.

She grinned at him, white teeth flashing in the dim light of the helicarrier.

He wasn't sure what she was going to say, after that. That was one of the things he liked best about her, he supposed. No one ever knew what was going to come out of her mouth. Even Tony had been surprised on occasion by the whimsical sayings of the dark haired girl, and that was saying something. She was just so affable and friendly that it was refreshing. She was...different. He thought of all the girls that he'd known - kind Peggy, brainy Jane, quiet Natasha, the work-centered Maria...

Darcy...well, she was different, as he stated before.

"So, I was gonna ask you something," she said.

"Shoot," he replied.

She twisted her body around, rummaging in a small backpack that he only now noticed was there. After tangling her fingers in the strings of the drawstring pack, and a few curses, she turned around with a shameless smile streaking across her face and an item in her hands.

He stared at it, feeling an odd kind of smile cross his face in response to the item and the courtesy to smile back at someone that was smiling at him. Steve ran a hand over his hair and gave a mirthful chuckle. "Um...is that a question?"

Darcy twirled the Captain America action figure in her hands. It had obviously seen some wear over the years. An image of her playing with this same figure as a child flashed through his mind, and he felt his chest lighten. Scratches in the paint of the figure and the fact that the tip of its foot was chipped off showed that this figure was well-loved.

"I was wondering if you could sign this...?" It sounded like a demand at first, but she adjusted the inflection of her voice at the very end to make it a question. That in itself caused him to grin at her even wider.

He held out a large hand, unabashed about this. He remembered what had happened to Coulson and still felt awful about it. He didn't think he would ever shrug off anything like this ever again.

"Sure," he said, as she placed the figure in his hand. Steve stood there for a while, awkwardly, and then noticed what was missing. "Umm...do you have..." He made a motion as if he were writing.

"Right! Yeah," she mumbled to herself, reaching into that bag of hers and pulling out a thick black marker.

Steve took the marker and flipped it around in his fingers, unsure of what to do next. Just his name? Or a message? He wasn't sure what he'd say if he had to write an entire note that took up the expanse of this little doll (at the moment he was wondering if - with his large and garish handwriting - he could even write _Steve_ without taking up the whole figure).

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, while Darcy bounced on the balls of her feet, hands clasped behind her as she stared at him eagerly. He looked up at her, and then realized he was humming in an attempt to quell the quietness around them. He gave her a twitch of his lips that was supposed to approximate a smile, but it fell flat.

And he finally asked, "What do you want me to write?"

It was the most obvious question, yet it took him the longest time to answer. This is what made Steve wonder if the serum had some kind of side effect on his brain. Braun in exchange for brain function...yeah, that'd be just his luck.

"Hmmm," she pondered, but it was obvious to him that she already knew what she was going to say. "Say, _I love you so hard, Darcy. Much love homegirl. From, Cap._"

He paused.

And stared.

Steve didn't notice his mouth was hanging open until Darcy boldly reached up and smacked it shut for him, grinning all the while. "Too much for ya, Stevie?"

"Ah..." he spluttered over his words. "Yes, ma'am."

"Ew, don't call me ma'am, dude. Makes me feel like I'm eighty with a house full of cats."

"I...don't exactly know what you mean..."

"C'mon, Mr. Rogers," she said his name as if it meant something else entirely, as if it were a joke he didn't get. "Surely they had the concept of the crazy ol' cat lady spinster back in the 40s."

"...I do recall a certain Miss Alberta that did meet those requirements..."

Darcy snickered at that, her face lighting up as she did so. Steve found it impossibly attractive.

He tore his gaze away from Darcy and back to the Captain America action figure in his hands, wondering just how in the world he could write all of that on here. His brow furrowed in concentration as he took the cap of the marker off with his teeth.

Darcy squealed.

"What?" he asked around the cap.

She was barely coherent, only saying something about, "Stark and Banner" and "cloning" and "DNA".

He decided he really didn't want to know.

There was apparently a little pause in which Darcy realized the problem with the size of the action figure and her message request. She had, all of a sudden, turned around and in one swift motion, pulled out a rolled-up object that looked like a poster and presented it to him.

"You can write it on here, if it'll give you more room," she offered sweetly. "But I would really like it if you just signed your name on the figure, too..." she trailed off.

"Yeah. Okay. That sounds fine."

He scribbled _Steve Rogers_ on the Captain America figure and handed it back to her. She looked like she was going to spontaneously combust. She clenched the figure tightly against her chest before handing him the poster. He took it from her and unrolled it, an image of himself reaching out and slapping him across the face. It was from so long ago, and yet he hadn't aged a day. A part of him felt insanely guilty for some reason or another.

"You remember the message from before?" she asked, bouncing on her toes again, her tone evil and calculating.

"Of course," he drawled. He plopped himself on the floor, crossing his legs under him, and stretched out the poster, writing along it her words. The words that made his chest feel a bit tighter and caused his palms to feel clammy. No matter the day or the age, he still couldn't get over pretty girls that were somehow attracted to him.

Darcy sat down next to him, the figure still in her hands, watching him as he wrote. Somehow, this made him insanely nervous, but he soldiered on, writing out the words exactly as she wanted them.

"Ya know, I was you for Halloween one year, Cap," she chirped randomly. That was another thing he particularly liked about her. One never knew what would come out of her mouth at a moment's notice.

Though, her admittance of that fact did cause his heart to skip.

Just slightly.

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding more interested than he wanted to let on. Really, the whole thing was fascinating. Picturing her in his gear was something that brought a large smile to his face. He could imagine her as a child, going from door to door, with her own shield, grinning as her neighbors or friends or family would put candy into her Trick or Treat bucket.

"Yup! I even have pictures to prove it," she said, puffing out her chest proudly.

"Really?"

Darcy once again brought out that backpack that might as well have been named Pack o' Cap. She pulled the drawstrings open and reached inside, bringing out her wallet and opening it. He noticed, vaguely, that her hands were shaking, and found himself amused that she might have had the knowledge to be nervous, though he wouldn't allow himself to think that. That would be slightly too arrogant of him to assume. She flipped open the wallet just as he was finishing the message that, as he read it, was pure and unadulterated Darcy Lewis.

She handed him the wallet as he put the marker down. "See?"

A grin crossed Steve's face as he looked at the picture, stuffed into one of the sleeves of her wallet. The photo itself was slightly crinkled around the edges, clearly old and handled often.

A young Darcy stared back. Long, dark hair was pulled in a high ponytail, a cheap plastic version of his mask was on her face. She was dressed in the blue of his costume, and even had the shield as an accessory. In one hand was an orange bucket shaped like a pumpkin, and he assumed from they way she was standing, that it was quite full. Her eyes glinted with mischief even at that age, though her grin was innocent.

"You put me to shame, Miss Lewis," he said.

"_Darcy_," she corrected, though he could see the flush of her cheeks.

"Darcy."

She rose from her seated position taking the poster with her, and as she did so, Steve handed her back the wallet, feeling completely touched. She stared down at him unabashedly, but the red on her cheeks was still there, and he felt a slight bit of pride that he was the one who caused it.

"_Duuude_," she crowed, spreading the poster out so it didn't curl in on her. She held it as if it were a map of sorts. "That's awesome. I'm _totally _getting this baby framed."

"Glad to help," he said in response.

She beamed at him. "I'll...see you later?"

"It'll be a pleasure," he replied earnestly.

Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red, but she seemed unaffected by it, only kept grinning broadly at him.

As she passed him, she bent over and pressed a hand to his shoulder, saying, "Thank you."

He smiled sheepishly in return. "No problem."

Steve stayed sitting there, on the floor, for just a few minutes longer. watching her form as she walked away.

He felt a bit lighter just at the thought that he did something she had wanted, and she had smiled so brightly, been so thankful just from him doing that once simple action.

It was in that moment he decided that he would do anything, really, to make her smile like that again.

"I think that maybe we should pose for a photo in both of our uniforms!" she called giddily over her shoulder.

Quickly, Steve amended his earlier statement.

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_**End.**_


End file.
